


Love Like Those You Can't Forget

by loveyousox3



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyousox3/pseuds/loveyousox3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Amanda's a senior in a new school struggling against her self esteem and has little desire to be close to anyone. That changes when Olivia, her infamous history teacher, draws her attention. A story of being lost and found, loving someone so much you're willing to change for them. Rolivia. Trigger warning inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a student/teacher (completely AU, might I add) work of fiction, and if you guys are crazy like I am about this kind of romance you’ll probably want to read this one, but please be aware, it’s triggering towards the matter of eating disorders and might become heavy at certain points in the story. In no way do I encourage any self destructive habits, and if you need help, please don’t put yourself through more suffering. It only takes a first step to recovery. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! English is not my first language but I do what I can. xoxo Mel
> 
> Disclaimer: There will be original characters in this story that I created, but Amanda and Olivia and any other things that I may relate to Law & Order: SVU are not mine.

Chapter 1

“ _Just like the wind takes a leaf from the tree, you always know how to dismantle me_

_And your sweet persuasion is making me weak, and that’s a comment not a compliment”_

No Doubt

**Amanda’s POV**

It’s my first week of school as a senior. Another year, yet another school. I like to think that at least this is my last year having to put up with useless homework and closeted gay jerks that have to bully people in order to forget their own insecurities. Well, I could’ve chosen to stay in my former school, where I spent the longest time trying to make friends and actually became part of a great group of people, only they’re not that nice. I love them and we still hang out, but they helped my self esteem to drop even lower each time they threw out one of those stupid who-weighs-less competitions and so on. So throughout the summer I decided, against my family’s better judgment that I wanted to change to a public school. And here I am.

Everything is still goddamn shitty. Everybody seems so much dumber, but at least they’re humble and not expecting anyone to look like a Hollywood star. I don’t feel like I belong, but those are no news. After moving to New York I knew it’d be lonely and I’m completely _fine_ with that.

Actually I’m not, but I don’t like admitting that out loud. _Just_ _get through the goddamn day_ , I use to say when things are harder than usual. My therapist helps a lot, but my father cut my check for therapy in a half because he thinks it’s a waste of money. I think _he_ is a waste of space and I’m not cutting him in a half, but whatever. I have one friend so far (yay! Record time!), Julianna, but she’s too quiet and kind of weird so we kind of hang out, make small talk and stare at the other’s face. It’s nothing special, but it helps the time to go faster. My therapist (her name’s Caroline and she’s the best friend I could ever pay for) taught me to search for tiny positive things in every bad moment I have to go through, so despite my crazy, sad thoughts, I try to be better.

“So, class, I want you all to write down a piece about World War II, tell me which countries participated and the two groups they formed. Then I want you to write about why it happened, the year it started and when it ended.” says my history teacher, pushing me out of the bubble. I don’t laugh because I don’t want anyone hating me on my very first week here, but I truly think the assignment’s hilarious. I spent too many years studying history as there was no tomorrow and now this silly teacher was asking something so important and memorable as if no one would know.

“Um,” I hear a girl mumble behind me. “excuse me, mrs. Benson? I’m sorry but I-“

“Ms.” the brunette teacher walking around the classroom cuts her off.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s _Ms._ Benson. I’m not married.” Her strong tone and the fact she was exposing a personal fact makes me look up at her. Most teachers wouldn’t care about the title whether it was accurate or not. She’s wearing Raybans, and I can’t remember her first name.

“Oh I’m sorry Ms. Benson, but I don’t remember ever having extended classes about any World Wars –” the girl chuckles, “so I can’t answer your questions.” She sounds spoiled like most people I know, which already makes her stupid to me, and what she just said makes me widen my eyes open. What does she mean; she doesn’t know some of the most basic questions a student could answer?

After that, a large group of people agrees with the blonde sitting behind me, and I start to get worried about the sanity of that place. Ms. Benson shakes her head slightly with what seems like a knowing smile, and I raise my hand on automatic. She comes to my desk and I show her my paper with all scribbled answers.

“Pretty well, everything’s correct.” She smiles and suddenly I notice other people staring at me. “See everyone, not difficult. You can take it as homework to show me next class if you guys _truly_ can’t remember studying such a time.”

“Hey,” I’m poked from behind by the owner of the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard. “I’m Agatha. Can you tell me your answers?”

I look at her, smile, and politely say “no.”

***

I’m annoyed. It’s my second week at Eleanor High School and I feel like I’m back at my first year. Most of the teachers don’t push us and homework is always too easy. The only good things in this place so far are the Theatre Club I just joined and Applied Arts class.

Ms. Benson, on the other hand, is a pain in the ass. The woman thinks she’s better than anyone and talks nonstop every class like she’s at a speech. Today I’m too depressed to pretend I care about learning things I already know, so I lay down my head and sleep with my backpack on my head.

“Amanda, right?” I hear after what feels like twenty minutes from above me and I know it’s my teacher trying to wake me up. I ignore her until she pulls the protection from above me. I don’t wanna be rude to her, but this is not the moment I need a lecture about sleeping in class. “I like the buttons you have.”

She absentmindedly sits in the empty desk in front of me and I straighten up. “Thanks.”

“Where did you study before?” she asks, those black Raybans on. It fits her face perfectly, but I try my best to avoid her stare.

“Oliver’s.” Here it comes. I sigh.

Instead, she smiles and nods. “Ah.” Is all she brings off. No one’s staring at us but it feels like they are. It makes me nervous, and as I finally look at her I notice she’s beautiful. I hope my bangs are in place.

“Look, I’m sorry for sleepin’ –“ I try.

“I like _The X Files_.”

Frowning, I don’t understand what she means. She points at my backpack with a motion of her chin and I see my _X Files_ button hanging on there. It’s my favorite TV show. _Does this woman always cut people off, though?_ I wonder.

“You do?” I feel my heart warming up a little. It’s been a blue morning.

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I like it.”

There’s a laugh coming out of my throat. She’s got my attention.

“Because it’s crazy?”

“You could say that.” She smiles, and _ohmygod_ her teeth are perfect.

“I’m Amanda. Sorry if I seemed rude earlier.”

“Oh it’s fine, your classmates are way behind you on their studies anyway. I’m Olivia, also new here.”

“Nice.” I have no idea what else to say, so I keep quiet until the bell for our next class rings.

Later I walk home and my forehead is burning, I have a throat ache and all I want is my bed.

If only.

***

Staying out of the sick zone is somehow tricky for me. _Amygdalitis_ again, it must be the third time this year. My doctor advises I should take them off, like he does every time I drop sick with this crap, but mom doesn’t care. She’s mad because supposedly I keep exposing myself out in the cold without proper clothes, but for god’s sake it’s still August.

Mom is a cool, traditional lady from Atlanta, and she’s always cleaning wherever she is. She’s the kind of mother I can tell her ass smells like freesias, lavender or both to due the constant cleaning and she’ll laugh instead of warning me to watch my mouth. We rarely get along, but I love her and she knows it. I swear she uses it against me sometimes. Kim is the one who seems to agree with every word mom says which never helps when we have any kind of argument at home. I know that in a few years she’ll be my age and arguing with mom too, but I pray to God she won’t have the same issues I do or anything like it. Even if I get so mad at her and we go days without directly speaking to each other, I try my best to protect my little sister from this crap I live through.

As I fall on bed with a burning forehead at 8pm, I’m glad I finally got an excuse to miss a few days of school, even if the year’s just starting out. Most importantly, though, being sick means I get to refuse food. I smile.

_It’s gonna be alright, I’m gonna be just fine._ I lie over and over in my head, so it’s easier to believe. It’ll be a better year. I’m gonna fit in theatre and go to stage and have fun.

It _has_ to be a better year. Please.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_“You're my last bone of contemption who could break at any mention_

_You're the last one that will stand tall to the end of the world”_

Marina & The Diamonds

**Amanda’s POV**

Double biology on Monday morning. One could say chaotic and they’d be damn right. I don’t feel disposed enough to already be in class, but who says anyone cares? Carol would, but if I tell mom to call my therapist so she’ll understand all reasons I shouldn’t be going to school if I’m not feeling well, she’ll laugh at me or something. I don’t even know.

The daily _ sibutramin_ plus the antibiotics for my throat are killing me. My very pregnant teacher is glaring at me while I try to sleep in the front row. I think it probably seems funny and in my head I laugh because I can tell she’s pissed. Julianna pokes me from her desk beside mine and asks if I’m ok.

“I’m greeeat.” I mumble, not moving up at all.

“Your hair’s messed up girl, get it together.”

If that was supposed to sound offending, it doesn’t reach my ears. I throw my pen at her though, and the loud “oh!” she cries out makes Mrs. Ribero lose her temper. “You’re the cause this class is so behind! You know what, ms. Rollins and Ms. Roberts, I’m ready to L.O.L like you’d say when I correct your first tests.”

Meh. I hate biology. I roll my eyes when she’s not looking at us anymore, fix my bangs on my cell screen and do my hair in a ponytail. Yawning, I’m looking at the old bags under my eyes when I hear the word “diet” somewhere in the room. I jump a little, only to see it’s also written on the board.

“Since our time’s almost up,” mrs. Ribero says, “let’s talk about other things. So tell me, which ones of you have engaged in any diets?”

I close my fingers tightly against my palm, completely unaware of what I’m doing. It hurts a little, but it’s already a habit: sometimes I even wake up in the morning full of nail marks on my palms for the bad dreams I have. When I’m awake, I seem to do it when I get angry so I don’t have to let anything out. I know shit comments are coming next.

Most boys say all diets are pathetic, that it’s much easier burning everything at the gym. Some of them laugh and say girls are too lazy for that. I don’t see why a personal issue such as eating habits should be “pathetic”, and those comments easily remind me of my own problem.

_You’ve got this Rollins; they’re just a bunch of pricks that have no idea what they’re talking about._

One of the few other girls from Theatre Club that studies with me raises her hand and I swear I’d kick her ass if I could after what she says. “Once I lost 10 kilos in a week. I’d only drink milk and I wasn’t eating because I didn’t feel like it. I never knew why that happened!” There’s even a giggle in her phrase, as if that was such an awesome thing. The girl in question is _really_ tall and thin. How can someone be that stupid? Even the boys are quiet after that. I get my things together silently, arrange my backpack and leave, not asking for permission. It’s not like I was making any difference there.

That was the stupidest discussion I’ve seen a teacher start. Why doesn’t anyone _ever_ consider there might be people in the same room as them that could have an eating disorder?

Selfish bullshit.

Walking past the bathroom, I finally remember I have class with Ms. Benson now, and it overwhelms me I haven’t seen her in almost a week. I shake my bad feelings off the best I can and she greets me with a smile, classroom still empty. I take the first row again, it’s a habit.

***

So I heard her name’s Olivia. She’s probably what, ten years older than me? Maybe not even that. Her skin’s like heaven… I mean, no, what? It’s just nice. Today she looks particularly nice with jeans, the damned Raybans and a plain white shirt on, the top buttons undone showing a little cleavage.  Oh god, I shouldn’t be thinking about a teacher like that. But she’s _friendly._ She _swears_ during class and talks about her true opinions on most leaders we study, even if she admires an asshole for the work he’s done. She sounds… passionate, now that I’m actually paying attention to her endless “speeches”.

She rarely writes anything on the board or brings research material in, which will surely screw over most people that don’t keep up with her. I’m not so sleepy anymore, and by the end of the class I wish there was more time of it. Since everybody’s on their phone and Olivia’s letting them, I get mine too so I can secretly add her on Facebook. She doesn’t seem to have many of the people I’ve met here on her friends list and as I check for any information she’s let public I wonder if she’ll accept me there. I’m too shy, or simply insecure to ask, so I bet on my best luck.

It’s lunch time and I don’t feel like eating more than the yogurt I’ve brought or hanging out with Julianna. One of the perks about being in this school’s that Kim isn’t here, so she can’t tell mom I spend “too much time alone” or whatever it is they talk about me.

Out of the bubble, I notice Olivia’s looking at me as if waiting we’ll walk out together.

“I’m staying if you don’t mind, ms. Benson.”

“Oh?” she looks surprised. “No, I don’t mind at all. But can I ask why?”

“I’m just tired, but thank you.” I don’t force any huge smiles, but look up at her to show I appreciate it. “I’ll leave before you’re back.”

“Good, I’ll be tired of your face by then.”

A moment of silence. It makes me uncomfortable, until she laughs. It’s a joke, of course. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and think that I’d play along if this was anyone else, but instead I shake my head. I don’t think my smile’s convincing enough, because she’s not moving. I’m overwhelmed again. She’s staring at me and there’s a little frown there for a split second.

“You… wanna talk, ms. Benson?”

“Nah. I have warm coffee waiting for me and people I should probably try to make acquaintances with.” She makes a face, gathers her stuff and nods as a goodbye, and I swear she has to stop being so… whatever she is. I don’t have the words that’d make her justice.

I lay down my head, yogurt long forgotten, and sigh. _Crushing on a teacher. Way to go, Rollins._

A few minutes later, I’m startled by the same loud voice. She’s always loud, it seems. “Amanda, hey, do you –“ she stops at the door again, and I almost fall out of the seat because I was almost dreaming in my nap. She looks amused with a mug of coffee in hands and laughs. “I was gonna ask if you wanted me to bring you coffee. I’m sorry I keep interrupting your sleep.”

If this was anyone else, _anyone_ – any friend, Kim, even mom or Carol – I’d scream at her for not letting me nap, but since it was her I didn’t mind anymore.

“Oh no ms. Benson, it’s fine.” I sound ridiculous even to my own ears. “You don’t need to bother with that.”

“Call me Olivia, please, I feel in a classic horror book when you call me Ms. Benson. And it wouldn’t bother me if _I’m_ asking, but it’s your call.”

“Then _no, thank you,_ Olivia.” The word tastes differently in my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else with that name, not that it’s uncommon but anyway. It’s pretty.

“Okay. See ya.”

“Bye, _ms. Benson_!” She’s already out, but my voice’s loud as well this time and I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at the title.

Another 10 minutes for my nap, let’s make it count.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_“Run as fastest I can, to the middle of nowhere, to the middle of my frustrated fears_

_And I swear you're just like a pill, instead of making me better, you keep making me ill”_

P!nk

**Amanda’s POV**

I hate psychiatrists. I haven’t met many, but the ones I have were enough to settle for a bad reputation. Mom made me come see this guy, saying something between friend-of-your-dad’s and a new diagnosis for my problem. If she hadn’t driven me, I wouldn’t be here at all. The guy looks bored as fuck as I talk, and his facial expression doesn’t change for a split second.

This thing about a new diagnosis is really stupid, and I know for a fact that mom doesn’t like my proximity with Carol. She wants to drag me to another doctor, even though now she’s saying I’d go see Carol and this “second opinion” every week. Yeah, _sure_. I wonder how she’d pay for that.

Talking to someone who looks like he’s ready to sleep on me is making me worse as the clock ticks by. I could cry. “So, Amanda” he slowly, painfully slowly speaks when I’m finished. “Unfortunately these things you’ve mentioned you feel are not really my field. But,” I close my hands into tight fists. _What_ wasn’t his field? Teenagers with shitty self esteem? What could be so difficult about that? For once, I desperately wished he meant the eating disorder. I wasn’t about to ask. “I could recommend you someone. What kind of treatment are you looking for? What do you think could help you change?”

I stare at him blankly. Narrowing my eyes, I state the obvious. “I don’t know.”

He licks his lips, joins his right hand’s fingers between his left’s. We stare at each other for a long time, and I wonder why the hell this person decided on becoming a doctor. I’m paying him for a useless session, and instead of saving me 30 minutes of babbling, he could’ve just stopped me so I wouldn’t bother exposing myself.

“I wouldn’t know the right pills to advise you. I’ll call your mom if I know about someone good with that, alright?”

“Yeah, right.” I say goodbye, giving off a fake smile. I still don’t know what “that” is. Talk about good psychiatrists.

In the car, mom is angry.

“Of course you didn’t like him. You’re not supposed to; it’s a _treatment_ , Amanda. That’s how therapy feels like. You can’t be buddies with your therapist if you want to get better, for Christ’s sake. Why can’t you just listen?”

“Me and Carol are not buddies, mom. Do you see us hanging out at the park or somethin’? She makes me feel better, that’s all. I can’t tell my whole life to someone who doesn’t even try to care, like that guy just did.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Amanda,” nosy, 12-year-old Kim says, “I think mama _just_ told you you’re not supposed to feel better after therapy. It’s pretty clear to me.”

“What?!” I’m in the backseat, considering throwing myself out of the window. It’s like I’m the kid all over again. “What are you two now, some sort of team cheerin’ for me to be sad all the time?”

Mom keeps yelling. I put my earphones in, since this isn’t going to do any good for both of us. Sometimes, I can’t understand a word of her values, opinions, demands. It just doesn’t make sense. How could she truly believe I’d like that guy, knowing me as she does?

I cry, disappointed in her, and me as well. Even though this whole feels wrong, I hate letting her down.

***

It’s 7pm and I don’t want to do anything but sit in my room and listen to music. I’m still sad about what happened. I wish I knew how to lie to my mom, and then I could’ve pretended I liked the guy but make up some other excuse to not go there. We’re still not really talking. She makes me feel so weak sometimes. I sigh, wipe away the few tears that are still fighting me over and get my computer. On facebook, I have a few notifications, but it takes only one for my mind to drift somewhere else that’s not sadness.

Olivia accepted me. I blush a little, giggle and run my fingers into her now unblocked profile. I even take my earphones off and let the music fill my bedroom walls instead.

She doesn’t have a boyfriend! At least I like to think so, since she doesn’t have any relationship status. Okay, let’s not focus on that, I shouldn’t even be this glad the woman accepted me. It’s just Facebook, people add everyone they know. There’s a lot of information there though, like what bands she likes, movies too. Of course that’s something _very_ important. It’s nothing exactly alike my cultural tastes, but the things we do have in common are relevant enough for me to adore her a bit more.

I make a mental note to try getting closer to her sometime. After that, even dinner tastes good. I might have a crush on my teacher, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.

***

“Hey Jules” I kiss my friend on the cheek. She’s flirting with some boy on the front hallway. We have another 10 minutes before the first period starts.

“Hey girl, sup?” she smiles. “This is Taylor.” She points at the good looking guy and I cross my arms on my stomach after he smiles at me. “This is Amanda. She’s a smart ass.” Julianna pokes my shoulder and laughs. “She’s the best student in our History class.”

I gasp a little and look at my friend. “That’s exaggerated, but whatever. Hi.” I shake his hand.

“Hey. Julianna was just telling me about how crazy Ms. Benson is.”

“AND Unethical.” She completes.

I look at them and suddenly I’m angry remembering all the times Julianna’s made small talk with Olivia. Crazy shouldn’t be an offense to her, since she’s always speaking about her unusual personality herself, but the way they’re speaking sounds mean. Unethical? What the hell.

“Oh come on, I think she’s great.” I say, trying not to sound defensive. I even smile.

“Well that’s your opinion,” Taylor embraces Julianna with one hand and she smiles at me excitedly. “I’m just glad I don’t have classes with her yet.”

“Who are you guys gossiping about?”

A tall, blonde guy asks. I’ve seen him around at Biology class; his eyes are kind of constantly half closed. I’m a little intimidated because I think he’s interesting or something. I’m not sure. As they say, if I liked boys…

“Ms. Benson.” Taylor says and he gives Julianna a weird look, like he’s trying to communicate. “But whatever, right? The bitch’s crazy.” I gulp, bite my tongue. “Hey Amanda, this is Evan, but I think you guys already know each other?”

“Yeah, well at least I’ve seen you.” He smiles in that stupid, charming way boys smile and shakes my hand. It undoes a knot in my back muscles, caused by the mean words about Olivia. I hope he doesn’t share those low opinions.

“It’s nice meeting you.” I look at my watch, searching for a way out. I could walk with them to Olivia’s classroom, but I don’t want that for different reasons. “Well guys I should be going, gotta check something before class. See ya.”

I turn around and walk before they can try talking me out of it.

***

Everyone’s on their usual seats and that’s when I notice Julianna joined the boys in the back, Evan being one of them. They look at me when I turn around and wave at an unoccupied class near them. I make a face and decline it, politely. “Front row girl!”

God, I’m such a nerd. Olivia raises her eyes from the paper she’d been reading and smiles at me. She studies the crowded room for a moment and brings her attention back to the paper. She scribbles something on it, frowns and nods at herself. She’s sitting on her desk from the moment the bell rang looking at that thing, quietly. Everybody around the class doesn’t seem to mind as they’re deep on a thousand conversations, but I do. I like observing her, lightly biting on her bottom lip and legs crossed. She seems kind of serious today, or maybe it’s just me, or it’s her work keeping her focused. After another couple of minutes she jumps off the desk, the heels from her black boots clicking on the floor and catching everybody’s attention. She doesn’t have to try very hard, ever. “Good morning everyone. Today I have a challenge for you, something we haven’t tried yet.”

Getting her purple pen, she writes on the board on big and clear letters: _Surprise test!_ And there’s even a smiley face at the end of it.

I try hiding a smile, because I think she’s brilliant. She’s the first teacher to do that since the classes have started, and we’re yet to close the first month. Everybody’s gonna blow this up but me! _Finally some fun._ My stomach flips a little and I feel euphoric. My classmates release a loud “ahhhhh, no!” and Olivia also smiles. She’s not looking at me, and I hope she won’t any time soon.

“It’s not hard, you guys. If you paid attention to me at all in our former classes you’ll do just fine.” She’s wearing a blue cardigan on top of a V neck white blouse and black pants. I try my best to keep my eyes in safe places, but oh god do they want to roam as she walks right beside my desk distributing our tests.

_She’s so beautiful._

As I read through the questions, everything does look just fine but I’m pretty nervous. I can’t do badly on this or simply average if I plan to impress her. I answer the questions slowly, taking the time I need. After a few minutes my eyes divert for the clock on the wall, and before I know it I’m stealing a glance at her. She’s sitting on her chair now, which doesn’t happen much, and when she looks back at me my legs tremble a little.

I keep her stare up as much as I possibly can, and it becomes sort of a battle.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_ “Fall into daydreams inside these walls, I must be out of my mind _

_ 'Cause I don't even know you, but all I do is think about your face...” _

Melanie C

** Amanda’s POV **

“I feel like I’m cheatin’ on you. Like I’m being persuaded to that, if that’s even possible.”

I’m at Carol’s office, my hands crossed and kind of sweating. I don’t ever want to hurt her or leave away any impressions that I like her less than I actually do. I was never an expert when it comes to words; so we don’t really talk about our friendship or whatever this is. Maybe being close to her patients is normal for her and just alien to me.

The thing is I don’t really have any other friends that I confide in as much as I do in her. She knows about my fears, sexuality, casual weird habits I have, how many times I get on my knees in the bathroom every week. Sometimes she even talks me out of it, when I’m self aware enough to manage to call her.

“I’m sorry?”

I fidget with my nails. This situation is ridiculous and yet it seems so hard for me to explain.

“Mom’s made me go see other therapists over the past month. For a  _second opinion_  or whatever bullshit she’s tried convincing me of.” Slamming down my chin on a propped up fist, I’m angry. I’m tired. I don’t wanna stand here discussing a non-existent relationship I’ve created in my mind. I’m tired of this disease and the need to lie onto anyone that gives me any sign of affection.

“What’s so wrong about that, Manda? She’s worried about you.” I don’t look at her, I don’t want to. “Hey,” Carol curves down tilting her head. It’s lovely. “Look at me. Let’s do this together.”

Once, I was happy to start this treatment. I thought I was all badass, having the guts to go through something so fucked up with my head held high.

“Stay with me, Amanda.”

Carol almost rises from her seat to reach me. I can see her firm grip on both arms of the couch from my sideway vision, and she’s worried. It makes me feel a little better that someone does  _truly_  worry, because no one usually does. Nobody wants to even know what an eating disorder is.

I hate them.

“I’m sorry, Caroline. It hasn’t been a very good day.”  _Even if I saw ms. Benson earlier._ “Ups and downs, right.” It sounds more like I’m trying to convince myself, but she buys it.

“How’s the candy? Are you eating any?” she changes the subject. I feel like a 7 year old who can’t face their problems.

“Trying. Chocolate doesn’t appeal to me anymore.”

It’s been a few months since I started obsessing over the record I could break by not eating anything that contains sugar in its ingredients. It’s fucking self destructive if you ask me; it makes me dream about it, have nightmares, crazy candy universes in my dreams. It’s funny when I wake up, but when I think about what’s causing it? Not so much. I used to  _love_  eating candy more than anything. Just  _why_ did I have to ruin that, too?

“Don’t you ever do things that make you feel like you should be rewarded?”

I know where she’s getting at. Carol tries to seem indifferent about my nonsense habits so it’ll be easier to help me change the way I think and see things (and it does help), but she’s kind of internally freaking out with me about this challenge bullshit I invented. I know that because of the way she bites on her lips a dozen times and because her voice raises a fine tone whenever we talk about this.

I want to answer  _I’m not a dog_ , but that’s too impolite even for my best friend.

“Most of the times I’m sad and I’m used to comfort eating, so it’s the first thing I consider doing to improve my mood. It was what made me the happiest when I was little. Eating, until my lungs exploded.”

“Lungs?” she raises an eyebrow. I’m still not facing her properly, but at this point I’ve stopped caring.

“Stomach, whatever.” I laugh ironically, being reminded of how fucked up my entire health is these days. I’m out of breath. If I was in my room right now, I’d curl up in a ball and cry like crazy. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not; I refuse to cry in front of Carol. My eyes are almost closing in their own accord; I could really use some vitamin.  _Don’t fall asleep, dumbass._

“Amanda.”

I snap out of the bubble. “What?”

“Did you eat today?”

“Yes, mom. I was a good girl.”

_ Why do I keep doing this to myself? _

“I can take you to that bakery house across the street if you want. We can share a brownie or som-“

“No!” I cut her off. Her eyes widen for a moment. “Don’t do this, please. I can’t have this conversation with you today.”

“Fine.  _What_  is it you  _want_  to talk about?”

I’m almost sleeping. Olivia’s face invades my mind and blurs my vision.

“I met someone.”  _Shit, I said that out loud._  Now I have to face her, know how she’ll react. “I think.”

She smiles, of course. “You’re making friends?”

“No, someone I have a crush on.” I’m stumbling over my words. “Nothing’s ever gonna happen, but it’s there.”

She tilts her head. “And how do you know that she doesn’t like you back, missy?”

I roll my eyes. Carol’s like a big sister sometimes, trying to convince me I can conquer the impossible. She’s not even that optimistic herself, so I don’t see the point.

“She’s my teacher.”

She only shrugs, so very Caroline. Everything seems so fucking simple to her. “So?”

“It’s… forbidden?” I give her a face, since she’s acting like a lunatic. “She’d lose her job? Mom would kill me and banish me to another planet?”

A few seconds pass. Caroline hesitates, but then her face turns purple and she won’t stop laughing. She laughs, out loud, and I have to put an angry expression for her to find the remote somewhere in her brain.

“You’re just so… negative, Amanda. When you want to. Let it go for a bit, will you?”

What?! Who does she thinks she’s helping by saying  _that_?! The nerve!

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m just declaring the obvious.”

“You’re trying to fish in future waters and your dish won’t be satisfying at all if you keep doing that.”

“Whatever that means.”

“All I’m saying is: get close to her. Maybe you have things in common that’ll catch her attention.”

I chuckle, ironically of course. Ha-ha. As if.

***

I’m not a fan of social networks, would rather read a book. They’re messy and too  _public_  for my liking. But what Caroline’s said to me a few days ago sticked to me like a mantra, so every night for the past week I log into Facebook on the evenings and stare at Olivia’s name on that damn pop-up chat. I keep considering whether to say “hi” or just make up some random homework nonexistent question to start any kind of convo. I wouldn’t know what to say by doing the former, and the latter would be so… not me. Unnatural. I don’t know. I just never thought I’d eagerly spend days and days on thinking about a good motive to start a conversation. It’s unnerving, to say the least.

I got almost every question correctly on last week’s test, missing only two. She secretly smiles at me and winks when I look up at her from the grade I got. A+. I’m pretty sure my legs tremble on their own coordination and press against one another, and I try not to squeal. Or something.

Olivia’s a piece of work. She’s flirty with most people, and everybody seems to know it’s just the way she is. I wonder how many people she kisses a month, if she has any sort of boyfriend, how old she is. I don’t know anything. I only know what I feel, and it’s confusing. There’s a warm feeling between my legs when we’re in the same room. I’ve hugged her twice after her classes, and on those days, my mom didn’t have to knock on my bathroom door begging me to open it.

Olivia could have anyone she wanted with those damn Ray-bans.

Before going to sleep, the sound of a new message on Facebook plays. My heart beats loudly in anticipation while I try to find my old Samsung beneath my sheets. What if?

_ Hey ;) _

It’s Evan, the blonde guy. I sigh but still have to bite my lip. It’s been a while since we met, but all of our interactions in class consist of long stares and hello’s. I type a shy “hi”.

_ How r u? – Evan _

_ I’m alright… how r u? _

_ Not convincing – Evan _

_ Huh? _

_ Looks like u r hesitatin – Evan _

_ I’m not. _

_ U should smile more often. Youre beautiful – Evan _

Seriously? That was cheap. I have no idea what to answer so I leave my phone under the pillow and go to the living room to kiss mom and Kim good night. Mom complains, something about me being in front of the television. Kim is distracted typing on her cell.

“I love you!” mom yells just when I leave the living right back into my safe haven. I hold my head out of the door and yell it back.

I need to check on my alarm, so I can’t exactly skip the last message he sends:

_ See, I know u were hesitatin. Goodnight Amanda, I hope we can talk sometime – Evan _

I send a friendly smile back followed by a “good night” but he’s already gone. What could I possibly say, though? “I’m not really fine but that rarely happens so don’t worry”? I would hate his pity, or confusion, or the questions he’d make. He’s not my friend and that’s simply how I act towards everyone, including the people I like so much from theatre and Julianna. Not that we’re that close, but when she asks, I’m always fine.

In two strong beats of my full, hungry heart, I shake my head and start touching my body. Stomach, legs, breasts. I need to forget.

Olivia smiles at me in my head, kisses my neck, bites my earlobe and leaves a throaty laugh there, making me gasp as my own hands push down my panties and touch my clit softly, in a slow rhythm I’m ready to die for. She keeps smiling at me before whispering “I’m gonna make you feel good sweetie, believe me…” and it’s suddenly so hard to hide away my screams.

When the third orgasm hits me my heart is even louder than my breath, and before I finally fall asleep a single tear escapes my eye.  _I’m never gonna have her…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish everyone in the fandom would ship Rolivia. *sad tears* I'm at detectivebenson.tumblr.com if you wanna chat or make any suggestions or send me your thoughts. That would be lovely! xoxo Mel


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is specifically triggering. It’s not my intention to write graphic scenes of Amanda’s disorder, but I couldn’t hold back from this one. In this story, she’s living it, so I’m just typing.

Chapter 5

_“But I can't compete with the she-wolf who has brought me to my knees_

_What do you see in those yellow eyes? 'Cause I'm falling to pieces”_

David Guetta feat. Sia

**Amanda’s POV**

My day didn’t start well. I know I shouldn’t keep such “negative” thoughts or whatever bullshit Carol pleads me for preserving, but this time I _swear_ it’s true.

I tried. I swear I tried even when I was serving my breakfast this morning and spilled half of my cereal, which made my mom yell at me with a high pitched voice and I laughed saying how silly I could be in the morning instead of putting up an attitude.

I didn’t come to school yesterday, which is why I wasn’t informed of this “party” before my eyes everyone’s participating today. In _Advanced_ _Math_ , for crying out loud. My teacher happens to be an ugly guy who wears too much gel on his hair and the same Christmas like sweater to our every class, and today I’ve come to learn he enjoys _food parties_. So yesterday while I slept like a weak baby he decided it was a good time to inform my classmates we’d be having lots of food today instead of actual class.

I close my eyes tightly. My classmates brought chocolate cakes, different flavored pies, cookies, a lot of soda and a bunch of other kind of snacks. When I say _a bunch_ , it’s because there’s a pile of junk food on the teacher’s desk. I got here late, but if I knew this was happening I’d simply hide somewhere until the next class started.

_One hour left. Everyone’s eating._

I drop my backpack on the desk I’m used to take, stand tall with my arms crossed and curse at myself as I stare at the so called party. _Fuck._

For a few minutes, no one bothers to talk to me. I’d pick up a book to read, but my mind can’t drift from the intoxicating smell all that sugar’s filling the class with. I can’t ask to leave. That would be weird, right?

I don’t have any friends in Advanced Math. Biting my lip, I look at my watch again, and it’s barely moved.

“Hey. Amanda, right?” A known face comes up to me, holding two cookies. Agatha. She’s eating one of them, and she’s slowly extending her other hand… To me.

I _try_ to not scream, or push her out of my way, or make a disgusting face. I’m not sure if any of it works, but she doesn’t seem offended. The least I can do is to not involve random people with my crazy problems, after all. It’s not her fault she’s trying to be friendly.

_I hate her for trying to be friendly._

“Yeah! And you’re Agatha!” I smile and state things a little too loudly. I ignore the cookie in her hand and quickly search for anything behind me to occupy my hands with, not turning around so she can’t see I just got nervous.

“Come join us. I know you haven’t brought anything but we’ll charge you next time… this sort of thing is our favorite! We always try convincing our teachers.”

“To _eat_?” At that, I can’t hide a face I’m sure comes out very weird.

“Silly! To throw food parties, of course.” She laughs, taking a bite on the next cookie “Come along.”

“Nahhhhh, off you go girl. I just had breakfast.” I grin and look elsewhere. A few other people are staring at me, expecting me to go get some. It’s a pity there’s nothing I can kick at this moment. I drink some water from the bottle I’m holding and nod at my other colleagues. Their mouths are _really_ full and everybody’s giggling out loud.

I sigh and the next nightmare I fall into is the sight of Olivia, who’s at the door excited for the snacks. She’s chatting with my math teacher and jumps in at the desk, taking a big chocolate cake piece in a napkin. When she bites on it, I swear I can taste her _and_ the cake. Oh my god. I freeze, and when she opens her eyes swallowing it her eyes fall straight on me.

Oh my god.

She smiles, all teeth showing and waves. She seems so delighted with that cake.

_Everything looks so easy for these people._

That’s when I’m reminded she’s not like me, and she could never understand. Of course I’m thankful for that, but I can feel tears burning behind my eyes, and I’m fighting to stand still.

_God, I wish I could eat all of that._

The moment that thought crosses my head, I know I have to leave the classroom. Olivia and Donald, my math teacher, are standing just outside the entrance though. It all happens so fast I can’t begin to change my mind.

“Hey Amanda, did you eat anything?” He asks. Olivia observes, mutters a “hi” to me.

“No. I’m sorry, I need to leave.”

“What? What happened?”

“Nothing… I’ll be back to get my backpack later.”

That’s the last thing I say before rushing to the girl’s bathroom and closing the door, hard. My back hits the wall like a punch in the guts and I slide down crying, finally screaming. I no longer care if there’s anyone around. I didn’t even check. I cry, and I cry, and I know I’m ruining my makeup, but there’s nothing I can do. _I tried._

Raising the toilet seat, my fingers fly inside my mouth and I don’t have to do much before part of my breakfast is out of me. After that, I try to breathe some air the best I can, but I’m having a panic attack. _I tried and I failed._ I have no strength left to hold on the toilet, so I don’t. The seat falls back and I pull my knees into my chest, crying even harder.

_Why do I have to be like this?_

I’m sick of everything. It had been maybe two months since I cried because I can’t eat junk food, and now that it came, it’s hard to stop. My cheeks are burning and I managed to mess up my hair too. I’m sick of this disease. Trying to calm down, I think about the times it’s given me company, a voice in my head that sounded so friendly for so long. I did everything it wanted me to. _Why do you have to be so mean to me?_

“Amanda.” There’s a real voice out of the booth, long minutes of thinking later. I can barely hear it, but it’s there. “Amanda, please. It’s Olivia.”

I bury my head between my chest and knees so I can muffle the ugly sounds I’m still making. She doesn’t have to be here. Not right now.

“I know you’re in there, sweetie. Did something happen to you? To your family?”

I need to be strong for her, but I don’t know how. I can’t answer. Instead of asking again, I hear the familiar sound of fabric sliding down the wall, and soon she puts her hand on the gap under the door, offering it to me. I think twice before holding it but then I do, and her grip is so strong. It reminds me I _am_ in fact alive, different from the high I was in a few minutes before. I’m trembling when she runs her thumb on my fingers repeatedly.

“Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, Amanda.”

Out of all the things I needed, making my crush think I’m this broken wasn’t on the list. My breath starts calming down, and finally it comes the moment where I don’t even know what happened that made me suffer so much. Things are beginning to clear up. My face, arms, chest, legs, throat and heart ache.

“I’m so-sorry” I stutter.

“It’s fine. Can I see you now?” We’re still holding hands.

“I look terrible…”

“I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

I pull away reluctantly and slowly stand up. “Okay.” I do that because I don’t know what else could be better than having someone there to support me. Opening the door, I see Olivia with the kindest face I’ve ever seen her in, and she pulls me to her arms, hugging me tight, not seeming to want to let go. It’s heaven, and it takes me a few seconds until I can hug her back.

I sob a few more times before she runs her hands through my blonde locks. “Calm down, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.”

Slowly, I start letting go. It’s not long enough and I’m not lucid enough to count how many seconds our hug lasts. When I look around, there’s no one else there but us and Donald, peeking at the door. I already want her to wrap me in her arms again.

“Do you wanna talk, Amanda?” she quietly asks.

My eyes run to him and back at her, so Olivia makes a face for him to leave. I wasn’t asking that, but it’s cute or something. She takes my arm and walks me to the sink, helping me wash my face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really want to talk.”

Her fingers carefully wash away my smeared makeup and I can’t help but smile. She’s studying me, and soon after we’re finished she looks right into my eyes. I tremble again, but she holds on her grip.

“I’m here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks Olivia… You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?” I step away, fixing my hair.

“Because I did.” Silence. “Now, do you wanna go home?”

I frown a little and look at her. “No, I can stay. I actually have class with you now.”

“That’s why I’m asking.” She’s serious. I’ve never seen her like that. “I’m going to put a documentary for your classmates, give some homework on that afterwards, but I could just fill you in later.”

“No, ms. Benson, it’s fine.” I nod. “Let’s go before we’re late.”

***

The rest of the morning followed by lunch with my dad, who’s in town and insists to see me is a blur. I barely touch any of the chicken salad he got me, not because I don’t want to eat, but because I’m sad and my head is elsewhere.

There’s that strong beat in my heart again, drawing my thoughts back to her.

_“I’m here when you’re ready._ ”

“Amanda?” Dad calls. It’s not like he cares or anything, so I don’t bother trying to tell him what happened.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to talk to your sister for me. I want her to go back to Georgia with me.”

I look at him, drink the left sparkling water on my cup and stand up.

“You know what; I don’t even know what I’m doin’ here. I’ve spent the past hour looking away from you and you weren’t capable of asking how _I am doing_. Therapy is great father, thank you very much. It was nice seein’ you.”

He laughs before I walk away. Always so right, he is.

***

I manage to eat a sandwich and it definitely makes me feel better.

“How was your day?” Mom asks smiling, while grabbing some lettuce from her plate. She’s healthily trying to lose weight and I’m proud of her. Kim looks up at me with her tiny eyes.

“Not one of my best.”

“Because of your dad?”

“No, mom…” I turn my eyes around so she can notice I don’t want to talk about it in front of Kim. She shrugs but slowly nods. “We can talk after dinner if you want. I could use some cuddling.”

“You sound tired.” Kim says. She’s somewhat calm tonight. Seeing her talk like that reminds me I haven’t actually had a real conversation with my sister in a long time.

“I am, sis. But I’ll be better tomorrow.”

After everyone’s done eating and we’re group cleaning the kitchen, I feel my phone beeping inside my back pocket. It’s a Google+ notification.

“Amanda, can’t you text your friends after we’ve done this?”

“Yeah, yeah.” It’s a message. What? Who messages anyone on Gmail? Trying to get a closer look at the person’s profile image, I can’t help but widen my eyes. It’s no one other than Olivia. What?

_Amanda?_ _Wondering if you’re ok. Let me know._

How did she even find me there? There’s also a friend request from her.

I block my phone, put it back in my pocket since the dishes aren’t gonna dry themselves any time soon and for the fact I have no idea whatsoever to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love your reviews for this chapter. xoxo Mel


	6. Chapter 6

_“And I can feel my blood, it's crawling through my veins_

_And you close your eyes and you twist your smile 'cause you can feel my pain”_

Charli XCX

**Amanda's POV**

_Amanda? Wondering if you’re ok. Let me know._

Tick, toc, tick, toc, tick, toc, tick, toc. It’s been 10 minutes or so and I just managed to lock myself in my room. Seriously,  _what_  is Olivia doing to me? I unlock my phone and type in my four number password, and I finally hold a breath that in exchange releases some sort of courage from deep within.

_Hey, I’m sorry for the way I-_

No, that’s not good. I erase it. Not even a proper hello?

 _Hey :) thank you so much for your concern. I’m alright now._ **Sent.**  8:38pm

I have to close my eyes before hitting enter, and as if aware of my nervousness, mom yells my name and I jump from bed.

“Whaaaat?” I yell back. “Do you need anything, mom?”

She hates yelling, but I wish I could just stay here and maybe go to sleep soon.

“You busy?!”

Sighing, I step back on my purple slippers and check my cell screen. No answer. Well, maybe she was truly just checking in. I turn off the lights on my way out and when I get to the living, mom is busy with some trashy TV show and Kim’s giggling at her phone on the armchair.

“Thought you wanted to talk?” Mom says, not turning to look at me. “Or maybe just enlighten the room with your presence. You spend unnecessary time in your bedroom.” I mention to reply, but she shushes me with her index finger.

Nodding, I take advantage of the empty space beside her on the couch and lie down, head on my mom’s lap. When her fingers start caressing my head, I smile to myself. Soon, my phone vibrates again. I wait like half a minute not to wake mom’s attention at my eagerness and finally grab it.

 _Great. You seemed really troubled_ 8:44pm

 _if you ever want to talk, Sandra’s amazing_  8:44pm

 _and of course, there’s me_  8:45pm

I hold my breath again for the longest seconds. Sandra’s the school psychiatrist, and people often go to her with silly issues like boys or complaints about the most different subjects. I don’t wanna tell Olivia I’m already in therapy, she’s being so cute.

 _Of course, maybe some other time?_   **Sent.**  8:47pm

I recognize the suspension points as a sign she’s typing back and it makes me a little anxious, but not in a bad way. My attention switches to my mom for a moment and I notice she’s barely blinking. She always does that when she’s enjoying a tv program. I’m seriously feeling so much better than I did all day.

 _When you’re ready_ 8:50pm

!!!!!!!!!!!!! She fucking did it. This woman is doing that on purpose.

Mom frowns down at me. Shit. “What’s got you smiling like that all of a sudden?”

“Oh, nothing!” I laugh nervously. “Nothing, just a stupid video.”

“Language.” Mom pats my forehead but smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

 _Sure._ **Sent.**  8:51pm

 _How did you find me here?_ **Sent.**  8:51pm

“Thanks, mom.”

I try distracting myself with the television sounds.

 _Apparently g+ suggests friends :p_ 8:53pm

 _Were you able to pay attention to that documentary at all?_ 8:53pm

Crap, I didn’t. I don’t want her to be mad at me.

“Amanda, go to bed. You look like you need it.” Mom caresses my forehead one last time and pushes my shoulder in that mom way. “You’ll go to school tomorrow right?”

“I think so.” I smile sympathetically, happy that mom’s trying to be understanding about my changing moods. “Good night, Kim.”

“Night sis. Talk in the morning.”

I look down at my phone and start to write a reply, but not before mom yells “I LOVE YOU!” when I reach my bedroom’s door. I say it back, of course.

 _Not really. I was actually gonna search for it online later, for your next class._ **Sent.** 9:01pm

Invading my blankets, I make myself comfortable and get my phone in hands. I try opening a random game app I have but soon Olivia replies and I don’t wanna wait one damn second to check on it.

 _I figured. It’s okay, if you’re sad like that again you should go home next time, okay? We all need rest sometimes_ 9:03pm

 _I’ll lend you my pen drive tomorrow because I’m that cool :p_ 9:03pm

God, Olivia’s sounding like she actually wants to be close to me. I’d never expect that, as much as I wanted it to happen since that first real talk. She’s sending me cute emojis. Does she even realize  _she_ ’s my teacher? Like, isn’t she supposed to be closed off to stuff like that?

I bite my nails and realize I can’t miss school tomorrow. She won’t be there the next day.

 _Alright!! Thank you_   **Sent.**  9:04pm

And just like that, the convo dies. I don’t want to let that happen, so I type the first thing that comes to mind. I curse at myself while typing but never stop.

 _So, I was thinking about hitting the movies this week… any recs?_ **Sent.**  9:04pm

That was dumb. Really, really dumb. Where did I get the certainty she attends the movie theatre from? Of course I Facebook stalked her, but her tastes in movies don’t reveal that. And what is she going to think now? I roll my eyes at myself and call the conversation over. Of course she’s not gonna answer that. I wouldn’t. Staring at the ceiling, I turn off the lights and Olivia soon proves me differently when my phone vibrates with a message from her yet again.

 _I haven’t had the time, but some of my friends said the new Marvel movie is fun_ 9:08pm

God, I can’t do this. I thank her as quickly as possible and say good night, hiding my burning cheeks underneath the pillow as if she could possibly see me.

_Good night, Amanda :) take care 9:12pm_

_***_

Blank page. I massage my temples and try to remember a single thing I actually learned in biology so I can impress my teacher on this month’s resume paper. I know a few hard words in Latin she taught us even though I don’t think that really counts and some ecology content is stuck in my head but I also don’t think I’m able to put that together. She’s given us forty minutes of her class to finish it; I have twenty left and all I want to write about is Olivia.

“Amanda?” Julianna whispers behind me.

“Yeah?” I whisper back, not digging to get kicked out of class.

“Let’s spend lunch break together?”

The proposition take me back a little since she’s growing popular lately and is already dating a guy, but I take it. I know my crush will be in the teacher’s room then, but I gotta deal with the fact I’m not one of the staff employees. Ha-ha.  _Funny there, Rollins._

Finally, I start producing useful stuff in the paper, and I don’t care if it’ll be a ten line assignment but I’ll do my fucking best. I have to win at this class.

“Those of you who are finished with today’s activity may leave.” Professor Ribero says after a few more minutes. I sign my name on it and go after my closest friend who’s eagerly waiting for me at the door. Before leaving, though, I turn and smile at my teacher.

“You look nice today, mrs. Ribero. I hope the baby is healthy.”

She actually smiles and politely thanks me, and I feel my fellow colleagues’ stares burn into my back when I link arms with Julianna and we head for the building’s stairs.

“So what’s up?” I ask. Julianna’s red waves are wild and long and when we step out in the sun her skin reflects like a fucking diamond. She’s not really skinny and I never felt attracted to her (thank God, being attracted to friends is basically hell), but there’s a happy pull there that invites you in. I wish I were more like that… Stuffing my hands on my jeans pockets, Julianna smiles as we find a table to sit down.

“You look pretty today! In fact, your makeup’s done some magic there.” She says pointing at my face. I’m wearing a mere eyeliner and a pink matte lipstick, but I enjoy the compliment. I’m not really able to find beauty in myself. “Are you seeing anyone?” She arches an eyebrow suggestively.

“Why do I feel like you want me to say I am?”

Julianna shrugs, unwrapping a sandwich from a little pile of napkins and smirks at me. “He hasn’t made any moves with you yet? Evan?”

Oh, the good looking guy. I laugh a little.

“No! He messaged me on Facebook a week or so ago. Do you think he wants to?”

“Of course, don’t pretend like you don’t know!” We both laugh and she bites on her food. I’m a little hungry, but after yesterday’s show I don’t wanna trigger myself. “I’m seeing Taylor now, and they’re pretty close I think. He told me Evan is totally into you but that you look uninterested or something.”

I study her a little, unsure of how much I can trust her. It’s not exactly like I’m hiding my sexuality, but I’m never sure how to label it and I don’t want our dynamics to change. Well, I have to say  _something_ , at least. “Jules. There’s something you have to know about me. Don’t freak out or anything, please.” I touch her arm and suppress the usual sigh that comes with this topic every time.

“What?!” She widens her eyes. “You’re moving to another school? Another town? Please don’t. The last time I had a best friend she moved and-“

“It’s not that!” I cut off her desperate speech, laughing. Best friend? Is she seriously comparing this last month’s countable friendly exchanges to a best friend? I laugh a little harder. “I’ll finish the year here, no matter how shitty this place is.”

“Okay… thanks.” She releases a loud sigh. “Oh, I know! You’re like 30 like that girl from  _The Orphan_  and secretly undercover for NYPD.” She almost spills the lettuce in her lunch then, considering her own joke.

“Jeez you’re crazy!”

“You’re just kind of mysterious sometimes, Manda.” She smiles sympathetically and nods for me to go on.

“Oh, god. Am I?”

“Yes, now spill!” She smiles in that awkward way and it makes me wonder why she’s getting so popular. Other people, I guess.

“I like girls, alright? I’m probably gay.”

She laughs again and makes a “duh!” face. “I knew that. The plaid shirts, Manda? Really?”

“Hey! Stereotype much?” I smile, grateful at how naturally she reacts. “Did Evan and your boyfriend say anything?”

“Oh no, I didn’t talk about that with them. Don’t worry. You can still make out with Evan if you ever want to try it.”

I’m content about how easy it was to distract myself from the bubble with Julianna, but soon everything stops moving when I see Olivia passing by, arms linked with my physics teacher. Suddenly, I start brainstorming.

They’re cheerfully chatting and he’s loud as fuck, which is always annoying in class. He’s not friendly to any of my classmates or me, but I obviously don’t care about that. What I do care about is how close they are to each other at this moment, Olivia’s eyes never moving from his face, so much that she doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. He’s not handsome but not so terrible, maybe ten years older than her but I still don’t know her age so that’s all speculation.

Soon they’re gone out of sight. I feel my nails digging on my palms for a second, and I’m sure I make a face.

“Amanda? You okay?” Julianna asks, turning around to look for what my eyes are hunting.

“Yes. I should get going, I have to go to the library.” I get up abruptly and cross my arms in front of my chest.

“Want company?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

I know I leave her confused, but I can’t do this right now. One thing at a time.

I’m not comfortable telling anyone how much I’m slowly falling for a teacher.

Not comfortable admitting  _I’m jealous_  aloud.

***

A couple of hours later, I’m in Arts class, still epically pissed off. My nails are over for the next month and I’m tugging on the colorful chalks painting some crazy stuff. It helps with the anger, since I can’t punch anyone.

Help me God, Olivia can’t just  _date_  an average looking guy, who also happens to be my teacher. Jesus, please, don’t. She’s free to date whoever the fuck else, but not someone I have to see with her all week.

Ugh. Why am I feeling like this?

A red chalk breaks in half then, and I quickly throw it at the room’s corner intending to hit the trashcan, and just right at that fucking second the door opens and the little piece of chalk hits no other than Olivia in the face.

The sound I make is something I don’t even understand, but probably resembling a squeal. I instantly run to her. My classmates who notice are laughing, and my Arts instructor is searching for their distraction when I reach the door. “Oh my god, I’m so clumsy.”

She laughs as if it’s nothing but I run my hand to her cheek nonetheless. “I’m sorry, mrs-“

“Olivia.” She smiles, touching my hand with her own. “We’re past the titles, remember?” I stroke her cheek for a moment, hoping to God my classmates can’t see us, and she smiles at me.

It’s like as if I didn’t even realize what I was doing. I bring my hand down awkwardly when she takes a step back and notice she’s holding her pen drive for me, extending it between the tight space between our bodies.

“Here you go. Next time I won’t be so quick to enter the Arts room when I know you’re inside.” She laughs, and slowly walks away. “I hope you’re never that angry with me!”

“Thanks, Olivia! And I’m a hundred times sorry!”

She waves and I can’t help but linger on her moving hips. It kills me.

When I return to class, Julianna has an arched eyebrow at me. She giggles and throws her hands in the air, mouthing “what the fuck, girl?!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL I totally forgot to post this here on ao3 after I posted on ffnet on saturday. Sorrreeeeey! This is a transition chapter. I hope you like it! xo Mel

Chapter 7

_"And I want it, I want my life so bad, I'm doing everything I can  
Then another one bites the dust, it's hard to lose a chosen one"  
Sia_

**Amanda’s POV**  


“This past week has gotten me thinkin’ a lot about who I am and where I want to be.” It’s Wednesday morning. I’m at Carol’s office trying not to tear up at 8:30 am, so I press my pinky on my eyelids. “I’m already eighteen, you know? There’s no time left for me to be this little fucked up in the head kid who wants to puke every lettuce piece she eats. No time! I wanna go to college and do something useful with my life, even.”  


“Is that why you were so quiet during our last session, Amanda?” Carol asks.  


I haven’t told her about any of what has happened between me and Olivia since the _blurry day_ as I started calling the bathroom/party incident. I just don’t feel like it’s a big deal. “I guess?” 

“Well Manda, even though I like the fact you’re starting to focus on your future self, I really need you to start thinking about your present version, too.”  
I chuckle ironically. “You don’t think I am?”  


“Listen to yourself talking, for a start. If this was anyone else in the room with an eating disorder, would you say they’re some ‘fucked up in the head kid’?” Blinking twice, I almost can’t believe the truth in her words. She strikes a point, one so accurate it hits my head. Carol smiles at me, and stands up to take my hand in hers. Her skin is tan and so soft it reminds me of my needy tendencies towards older women. “Here, let’s continue that puzzle we were working on. It’ll help you rationalize.” 

The first time she asked me for company to draw and paint and arrange a puzzle together, I felt like I was being played at therapy, like it was 100% crap. Now, it comfortably makes me feel at home. While we do it, we usually talk about general things. Sometimes she’ll ask me something and I’ll think it’s random, only to realize later she was searching different types of reactions from me. It’s a game, one I like to play.  


We both sit on the carpet, and I don’t ask more than one question, looking up at dark chocolate locks. She’s sloppy to sit. “You know you are my favorite person in the world, don’t you?”  


She smiles at me so sincerely it feels like a hug. I know I’m leaving her office content today. “And you are so wise, Amanda. I’m here for you.”  


We had an early session today since it’s tests week which means no first hours at school. I leave half an hour later and walk there, allowing myself to do some iPod dancing on the street and exercising a bit. My backpack is very light and I brought it out of routine, because all I needed were my personal electronics, a pencil, pen and that’s about it. Usually I go to therapy on Mondays and Thursdays afternoon, but coming today means I can sleep when I get home tomorrow before theatre time.  


Rehearsal is getting crazy. We have less than three weeks before our first play debuts and it’s gonna be my first time on stage since I was a little kid and mom was trying to make me famous. I’d stay backstage if I could, but that’s not something that happens in the company. Everybody acts, and everybody works behind the curtains.  


I’m heading off my geometry test when I see Olivia turning the left corner at the end of the hall and I decide to follow her in the middle of the crowd, whilst everyone else is worried about getting home or whatever it is other teenagers go early. Some classmates call me up to go with them but I just “nah” them and ignore their confused faces. Holding on to my backpack, I manage to get away from the flow of students and rush a little to get to Olivia’s classroom.  


I’m a little breathless and her door’s ajar, in a way that allows me to peek in and see she’s sipping on her usual black coffee from a transparent cup. She’s leaning on her desk and typing on her BlackBerry, no Ray-Bans with a black tee and tight blue jeans, which cling perfectly to the shape of her body. Olivia’s not super thin, but I always want to touch her everywhere. That’s saying something for a girl who’s got a beauty complex.  


I clear my throat and knock twice, making my presence known.  


“Amanda?” She drops her phone behind her and smiles. “Come in!”  


“Hey” I enter the classroom trying my best to act confidently and drop my backpack on the nearest desk from hers. “Am I interruptin’?”  


“Nah. I should probably be at the teachers room but I hate the way I’m looked at there.” She turns around and reaches for another cup and a thermos. “Want some? Please don’t say no this time.” I smile and sit up on another table, intending to stay for some time. For a moment, I just stare at her eyes, lips, neck and shoulders, going over her cleavage. My mouth is suddenly dry and when I go back to her brown, deep eyes, she tilts her head for such a fast couple of seconds I almost miss it. Then she frowns. “Unless you’re in a rush?”  


Her hand stops pressing for the coffee, and I shake my head. “No, I can stay. I have theatre in a few hours.” When she turns her back a little to get it, I lick my lips a dozen times and can’t stop staring at her like a hungry dog. Unlike one though, I don’t jump at her. “Coffee is probably gonna do me some good.”  


“Here.” I brush our fingers intentionally when I reach to get it from her hand, which makes her stare at me again. She doesn’t say anything.  


“So, I thought you had Rafael and Donald to hang out with?” The former’s my physics teacher, that asshole.  


“I do, but they’re insufferable most of the time they’re together. They exclude me from most their subjects and I’m just sort of there.” She’s gesticulating with her hands as if really frustrated. I listen with awe, could possibly drool.  


“Why would they do that? You seem so close to them.” _Especially to Rafael._  


“They have particular matters.” She hesitates and makes a gesture with her hands. “You know.”  


WHAT?! They’re _gay_?  


I hesitate too, but then it’s like a weight is gone from my shoulders. I narrow my eyes and can tell she’s reading my thoughts, so we laugh together. “Oh my God, Olivia. I was sure you were seeing Rafael.”  


“You _what_?” She bursts out laughing so hard that some of the coffee she’s drinking spills out on her chest. Instantly she drops it behind her more carefully on the desk and looks back at me, trying to tell if I’m serious. Her reaction is confusing, but now she’s got hot coffee on her T-shirt and that makes everything so much harder.  


“Oh, God, let me help you. Do you have any napkins or-?”  


“Oh no, the shirt’s black so it’s fine. It’ll be my new perfume for the day.” She smiles at me and I hide behind my cup. “Why did you think that I was seeing Rafael?”  


“Because.” I laugh and move to sit a little closer to her. “Maybe I’m just an idiot.”  


“Don’t say things like that.”  


“I was 90% sure, though.”  


“You’re out of your mind.” She laughs again, voice huskier this time. “I don’t think I’d date any of my colleagues. I don’t really like most of them, and dating one would make that worse.”  


“I don’t like my classmates too, so I know how it feels.”  


She stares at me and slowly nods. We’re quiet for some time and I hope I’m not seeing things, but there’s some tension between us. “How was your Advanced Math test today?”  


“Confusin’, y’know? Math always makes me feel dumb.”  


She takes my arm and caress it. “Amanda… you’re the brightest student I have in the entire school. Of course I don’t want you bragging about it, but you are.” Bringing my free hand over the one touching me, I run my fingers back and forth her knuckles and she doesn’t stop me. It hurts too much that this is the closest I can possibly ever get. “If anyone asks me if I said that, I’ll tell ‘em you lied.”  


Always breaking the ice, she laughs but doesn’t let go. We talk for a long time and I don’t want it to end even if it feels like hours. Now I know Olivia’s 27 and that her biggest dream in my age was to become a cop. She doesn’t mention her family, which tells me she lives by herself. All that knowledge makes me _way_ more intrigued, I’ll be damned if I don’t simply let whatever there is to happen go on. By the time she releases the hold on my arm, my hand’s sweating. I can’t help but think if hers is, too.  


“And how old are you, Manda? 16, 17?”  


My nickname sounds like honey on her lips and it helps ignore that she’s trying to figure out my age by my child like face. It’s the hair and bangs, I think. “I’m 18.”  


“One of the few then, right? Did you start late?”  


The subject makes me uncomfortable but I can’t lie to her. “No. I had to stop for a year back when I lived in Georgia.”  


She mumbles something I can’t understand, since there’s a knock on the door and it slowly opens. Evan. I want to curse under my breath but instead I smile at him.  


“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Olivia runs a hand through her hair and goes around her desk to sit on the actual chair.  


“No problem. Something you need?”  


“Um, Amanda?” He looks back at me, red cheeks. “I was thinking we could go for a walk before theatre time?”  


Evan joined the club a few weeks ago just in time for the new play, claiming he needed a distraction too. When he saw me there, he seemed genuinely surprised. I close my eyes tightly for a tiny second, wishing Olivia didn’t have to see me with him, and grab my stuff. What good could it do to say “off you go, I’m gonna stay”?  


When we’re almost turning the right corner to leave Olivia’s classroom corridor, though, I look back and I’m definitely not going crazy: she’s standing at her door frame, gaze fixed on me.

God, _what is breathing?_


End file.
